sugared, milky coffee; it's that
familiar (dis)taste of failure
(because she only drinks it when
self control slips away), and
nicotine and alcohol balance out to
insomnia, she says, when asked,
but it sounds like a swear word from
unpainted lips, and
when each sip increases
bruised eyelids and
late night TV blurs to interesting,
she tells her mum it's decaffeinated.
A/N: There's something not right with this, but I can't figure it out, sorry.